


Should I stay or Should I go

by raging_fire



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - College/University, Cassian is a busybody, Coffee Shops, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Nesta is a painter, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 10:31:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19851307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raging_fire/pseuds/raging_fire
Summary: Upon noticing a rather intriguing classmate of his at a local bookstore/coffee shop, Cassian decides to do what he does best -- pry into her business. The last thing he expected was that he'd get caught up in her web with no chance of escaping.Nesta struggles after ending things with her abusive ex-boyfriend, though he didn't get the memo. After showing up while Cassian was around, Tomas decides to get revenge for Nesta's refusal to see him.Though his revenge is a painful, terrible  one.





	1. Chapter 1

Cassian didn't notice the girl with the square glasses and disinterested expression at first. It was because she was sitting all the way in the back of the auditorium, secluded from the view of most students, her head always buried in a textbook or a novel. 

When he first saw her, _really_ saw her, it was a mere coincidence. One rough morning when the world seemed darker than usual, Cassian sought the first quiet place around -- a small, secluded bookstore that he once spotted on his way to a seminar. He recalled that it was pretty gloomy, and when he found himself in front of it, wet from the rain, it seemed like the perfect spot to be alone.

Turns out he wasn't the only one thinking that.

Cassian scanned the relatively empty bookstore in just a few seconds, and came to two conclusions:

  1. they lacked customers
  2. this was also a coffee shop



The decor was pristine. Walls covered with paintings from all ages, rows and rows of books in all sorts of conditions and a circular staircase that led to another floor filled with more books. Hanging from the ceiling, as if pulled out from a fantasy book, were twinkling lights and blooming vines. Classical music was playing softly and Cassian immediately recognised the song: Flower Waltz by Tchaikovsky. The atmosphere was warmer than he'd expected, welcoming even. And right there, near the windows, sitting at one of the many empty tables, was the girl from his class.

Nesta, he recalled immediately. The only one who managed to get the highest grades in exams, yet she barely seemed to pay attention to anything or anyone.

So unaware, even now. She probably didn't even hear him come in, since her eyes were glued to her sketchpad. 

An artist. Interesting.

"Hi! Can I help you?" 

Cassian turned towards the old man with a few books in his arm and a huge smile on his face. It was hard not to return it.

"Hi," he said. "Do you have black coffee?"

The man nodded. "The best on the campus."

"Can you also spike it a bit?"

"Got any exams tomorrow?"

"No."

"Then no. Have a seat, I'll be right over with your coffee."

"Thank you," he said, fighting back his laugh. 

Trying to distract himself and also curious as hell, Cassian approached the table where Nesta sat, still unaware of his presence. Without so much as an introduction, Cassian sat on the empty chair in front of her, a grin already splayed on his face.

It faltered when Nesta raised her eyes and looked at him for the first time. 

For just a second, everything was quiet. His thoughts, his problems, the entire world. 

Those icy eyes pierced him, rendering him speechless. 

_She is the most beautiful person I've ever seen,_ was his first thought.

_She looks like she could kill me,_ followed suit.

"In case you haven't noticed, there are numerous free tables here, so feel free to pick another."

Even her voice sounded melodic. Fucking hell.

"Why would I sit alone when there's a familiar face around?" 

Nesta raised her eyebrows. "Familiar? I don't even know who you are."

Cassian's grin slowly returned. "I'm pretty sure you do. We have the same classes. I've noticed you. Always with a book in your hands, always grimacing. Your name is Nesta Archeron."

If she was surprised, she didn't let it show. Instead, Nesta closed her sketchbook and placed it on the table.

"And you are?"

"Cassian," he answered with unusual enthusiasm.

"Cassian," she repeated his name, which stirred a certain fascination in him. "And what the hell do you want, Cassian?" 

"I could use some company."

"Then go pet a dog. I'm busy."

"We can be busy together."

The look Nesta gave him would have probably scared him off a few years ago. But it was something about it, the hostile air surrounding her and the rigidness of her posture. It looked like she was trying very hard to maintain a certain image, come off as completely detached from everything and everyone. Void of emotion.

"Bounce."

"Don't tell me you don't get bored being alone after some time. Let me take a wild guess, you come here at least thrice a week, perhaps because even though you probably don't socialise much, you still feel the need to get out of the house."

Nesta squinted her eyes and crossed her legs. "You think I come here because I'm lonely?"

"Yes."

"And why are you here?"

"Perhaps I'm lonely, too."

Before Nesta could answer, the old man brought Cassian his coffee and another cup of what looked like hot chocolate for Nesta. To his bewilderment, Nesta accepted the cup with a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the ends. 

"You didn't have to, Walter. I'm already on my second."

The man -- Walter -- shook his head. "Nonsense. Since when do you have a limit when it comes to chocolate?"

"Fair enough," she replied with an almost, _almost_ laugh. 

Walter left with a nod to the both of them, and Cassian watched in wonder how that enticing smile dimmed and her scowl returned. 

"You don't seem like the lonely type."

"For an avid reader, you should know better than to judge a book by its cover," was his quick reply. "How come you're friendly with him and not me?"

Nesta lifted the cup to her mouth and took a careful sip. "Because I like him. He lets me borrow whatever books I want. And as for you..." she measured him from head to toe, taking her sweet time. Cassian's heartbeat quickened. "You've been here for only five minutes and somehow, you already managed to annoy me. And I hardly think that my judgement is misplaced, since I've seen you in class, always in the middle of every group. You don't strike me as the sort who's in need of extra company."

Cassian's smile was nothing short of wicked. "So you already knew who I was."

Seeing his triumphant expression, Nesta's scowl deepened. "Don't flatter yourself. I observe everyone and everything."

"Which makes you a terrific artist, I bet," he replied with a pointed look to her sketchbook. "Can I see?"

One of her small hands gripped the sketchbook tightly. "No."

"Self-conscious?"

"I prefer the term "private".

After taking a sip of his coffee, Cassian leaned back on the chair and crossed his arms across his chest. There was an unmistakable fire in her eyes, a steel will in the way she held that sketchbook close, as if he might snatch it away any second now. This was, by far, the most hostile interaction Cassian had with anyone in his entire life.

Which made it one of his favourites.

"You're good at seeing, perhaps. Noticing the bits and pieces that people may usually ignore. What you said about me isn't wrong, since it's obvious you have an analytical eye, but unfortunately, it only sees what the world, and its people, show."

"Are you trying to tell me that you're faking it?"

"No," he laughed. "No. But being in the middle of the crowd can make you feel just as lonely as if you were the last person on this world."

Her anger seemed to dim little by little, as if she understood that. 

"And that brought you here?"

After taking a long look around, taking in the bookshop once more, Cassian noted with a sad smile.

"We all need a haven from time to time. This seems like a good place. What about you? Running from something?"

A flash of emotion passed her face faster than lighting, yet Cassian didn't miss it.

What a pretty mask she was trying to paint. Too bad it had a few cracks here and there.

"I just like being alone."

"No one likes being alone all the time."

"Well, perhaps I am no one, so please do feel free to stop chiming in with your opinions. I have work to do."

Without another glance, Nesta reopened her sketchbook and placed it on her legs, so he wouldn't be able to see it. She picked up a black pen and began drawing or sketching or whatever she had beendoing when he interrupted her.

"Alright," he said, opening his backpack. "I have work to do, too."

Cassian pulled out his notebooks and study guides and began studying for the exams that were looming in. Of course he saw Nesta glance at him here and there, trying to figure out what he was studying for, but said nothing.

Trying to hide his smile, Cassian tried to focus on his work, comforted somehow by Nesta's presence.

* * *

"You again. Don't you have better things to do?" said Nesta as soon as she entered the coffee shop and reclaimed her usual spot.

Cassian could barely contain his smile. Their casual bickering was more fulfilling than any sort of human interaction he had for quite some time. 

"To be fair, no. I don't like studying home and I quite like your company."

"We don't even talk, Cassian," she rolled her eyes as she pulled out her sketchbooks.

"That's because _you_ don't want to talk, Nesta dear."

Their eyes met and Cassian could swear that the corners of her lips turned upwards. It happened for only a second, because the next second her eyes were fixed on whatever she was drawing. 

Cassian opened one of his books and resumed studying, though he kept glancing at her.

* * *

"Can I see what you're drawing?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's private."

"Are you drawing me naked, Nesta?" he fake-gasped, earning a smile from her that could be interpreted as "you truly are an idiot". Despite this, his chest felt warm, his stomach tied up in knots he couldn't even begin to untie.

"I'm not really into drawing horror stuff, but I'll let you know if I ever need you to model for me."

"Please, Michelangelo would've begged me to let him make a sculpture of this body."

Her smile widened. Cassian's mind focused solely on that, too perplexed to form any coherent words.

"I don't think he was that desperate, Cassian. But whatever helps you sleep at night."

His name on her lips, the quiet but steady flame in those icy eyes and her silver tongue had him completely enthralled. Really, there was no hope left for him.

They met almost daily here -- neither of them spoke in advance, but somehow they turned up at the same time and sat at the same table, doing different things. If Nesta had been nothing but hostile at first, now she would deign to speak with him, if only to amuse herself. 

But not enough so he'd be able to learn something about her except obvious things, like her passion for drawing, literature and being away from the world. Even her body language was telling a lot about her: always alert, never with her guard down. The only moments she seemed to relax where when she was too caught up with drawing that she couldn't even notice.

And he was desperate to find out more about her. Even if he asked, the chances that Nesta would answer his questions were low. 

His thoughts went silent the second Nesta turned her open sketchbook around and placed it in from of him. 

"I painted this last night. It's a commission."

From all the things he'd expected Nesta to paint, otherworldly creatures that seemed way too realistic was not among the options. There was a graceful woman with teal skin, shrouded in a sleeveless, long dress that depicted the night sky. It was almost translucent, with a low-cut cleavage that showed off an opulent golden necklace. Her hair was a perfect mirror to the dress, spread across the upper part in graceful waves, filled with luminous orbs. On top of her hair was a enormous golden crown with black gems and her arms were stretched upwards, as if she was reaching for the sky itself. Her pointed ears were adorned with long earrings and her blue eyes were bright, hopeful. Her black lips were softly parted, as if in amazement of what she created.

"Do you like it?"

There was real emotion in her painting. The grace of her body, the careful details of her expression. Even the eyes, which said a great deal about people, seemed to be telling a story.

For a second, Cassian was dumbfounded. 

"This is... This is incredible, Nesta. Damn, you're not playing around when it comes to painting, do you?"

There -- a full smile. 

Fucking hell.

The woman's beauty in this painting was nothing compared to Nesta's.

"It's supposed to be a night goddess from a book. And no, I take my art very seriously."

Before he could say anything more, the door hanged above the front door clicked and Nesta's smile vanished.

"Nesta," said a male voice, one he recognised.

When the man appeared right next to them, Cassian tried not to raise his eyebrows. He knew him -- Tomas Man-something, a guy back from high school. He looked pretty much the same, though his stern expression and obviously moody demeanour said something else.

"I thought I told you to meet me back at your dorm after you finished classes," he said, then turned towards Cassian, obviously perplexed. "Cassian? What are you doing here?"

Cassian needed to only glance at Nesta's pale face and wide eyes to get the message. 

She didn't want Tomas around her and was probably avoiding him by coming here.

"The better question is, what are _you_ doing here?"

Still, his eyes focused solely on Nesta, who was rendered speechless. He didn't like that one bit.

* * *

There was no way she could run away from this. From him.

Nesta shuddered when she beheld the man who managed to turn her life into a nightmare in such a short period of time. They were a couple once -- a long time ago, when Nesta was foolish enough to think of him as a decent man. 

The mask fell in the first few weeks of their relationship. The bruises she bore were proof of that.

"I told you to leave me alone," Nesta said with a steady voice, digging her nails in her palm. "I don't want to see you."

His reaction was all too familiar; the confusion, quickly followed by anger. The clenched fists and gritted teeth. Luckily, they were not alone.

"You don't--"

"She said to leave her alone," Cassian harshly interrupted. "And if I were you, I'd go while my face was still intact."

"This is the guy you choose to spend time with? You want him over me? Me?!"

Tomas began to frantically gesticulate at himself, as if he were some kind of fairytale prince that every girl dreamed about.

He wasn't. He was the villain.

Nesta bit her lip, trying hard not to tremble, not to show how much he still scared her. 

"You can't ignore me forever."

"Leave," she repeated. "Go away. I want nothing to do with you."

Tomas' face was incredulous. "I'm not leaving anywhere without you. I'm tired of you pushing me around, and for what? So you can spend your time with this jackass? Come on, get up. Now."

"Fuck off," was her response.

Tomas clenched his jaw and made to grab her arm, but Cassian got ahead of him and grabbed his instead. 

The look of pure fury on Cassian's face sent shivers down her spine. It was grave enough that Tomas stopped in his tracks, realising that a fight between them would likely end up with him dead. Cassian was bigger, stronger. He would squash him like the bug he was.

"Let's not make her repeat herself again, Tomas," Cassian said, then squeezed his arm until Tomas winced. "She said no. Come around her again and I'll make sure to ruin that pretty face of yours."

There was a moment of silence between the two of them -- glaring at each other with nothing but pure hatred, yet Tomas knew he had no choice but to leave. He had to tear his arm from Cassian's death grip and take a few steps back.

Then he pointed a finger at her and said, "I'll see you again, Nesta."

Those words carried a promise far more dreadful. It was obvious that Tomas wouldn't leave things like this, not when his pride had been wounded. Not when she had the courage to refuse him twice.

As soon as he was gone, the anger vanquished from Cassian's face, turning into something far more concerned. Significantly softer.

"I'm not going to pry. It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. Just tell me though -- are you alright?"

She could only manage a fast nod, keeping her eyes fixed on the window, making sure he wouldn't come back. 

"Nesta," he said quietly. "You're shaking."

Perplexed by his statement, Nesta looked at her hands -- they were shaking on the table, so obvious that anyone could've seen. 

Was it anger? Fear? Anticipation? Adrenaline? All of them at once?

She quickly hid her hands under the table, telling herself over and over again to calm down. It was over.

_No, it's not,_ said a little voice inside her mind.

"Is this why you come here so often? To get away from him?"

It was hard to come up with the right words to describe her situation. Harder to sort through her thoughts in such moments. She was used to being alone after scenes like this -- no one ever assisted a scene between Tomas and her. 

"Yes," she managed to say. "I broke up with him a while ago. He clearly didn't get the message."

"Did he hurt you?"

She bit her tongue to keep from laughing or crying or shouting. Hurt her how? Because there are more ways than one, and he tried them all.

Instead, she found an excuse. "I should go, it's getting late and I have to study. I have a class at 8 a.m." 

She hurriedly packed all of her belonging, completely avoiding Cassian's worried eyes. She could feel it; his worry, anger. Desire to find out everything. 

He wanted to help her.

"Let me walk you back to your dorm," he said, standing up. "Please. I want to make sure you get back safe."

She looked at him then; truly looked at him.

God, how he annoyed her at first. His endless curiosity, bubbly personality. Charming smile and cocky attitude. Yet Nesta found him most admirable in his quiet moments, when he was reading or doing an assignment and was completely oblivious to the world. She wanted to draw him.

It never felt like this with Tomas. Not even in the beginning.

And perhaps it was the silent plea in his request, or the fact that seemed so worried, that she accepted.

* * *

The walk back to the dorms was, at first, filled with silence. 

It was late in the evening and the sun was setting, casting golden sun rays all around them. Few people were in sight, given that most were probably either studying or partying. Nesta clutched her hand around the backpack, dreading each step that brought her closer to her dorm room.

She didn't want to go there. 

Tomas wouldn't just go away without retaliation. 

Her heart wouldn't stop beating faster, faster, faster---

"For how long has this been going on?" 

Nesta bit her lip. "More than a month."

She heard his slow exhale of air. 

"Nesta, if he's hurting you or stalking you, you need to do something about it. You can't live in fear of him. Tell the police or--"

"You think I didn't consider it? I tried to get a restraining warrant a month ago, but he keeps denying everything and I have no solid proof of his stalking or threats. There are no witnesses that could testify for me. I'm stuck and there is nothing that I can do."

"There is," he said, stopping in his tracks. "I can make sure he doesn't bother you ever again. Just say the word and I'll take care of it."

"Cassian, I won't drag you into my mess. The last thing I want is for you to be charged with assault, or worse."

"But it would stop him."

"Don't worry, I don't think he'll be coming around anytime soon," she lied.

* * *

It was well after ten when Nesta realised that she forgot her textbook at the library.

Groaning, she got out of her bed and looked for a sweater. Under any circumstances, she'd leave it there and try to find it the next day, but her assignment was due tomorrow and she needed to finish it as soon as possible. 

Before touching the doorknob, a thought passed through her mind, faster than lighting.

Tomas.

He could be outside her door.

He could be waiting for her.

She shouldn't go out so late.

"Enough," she chided herself. "You can't leave in fear for the rest of your life."

So she opened the door and left her room without a second thought. 

The hallways were empty, void of any presence, which was a bit unusual. But then again, exams were close. People were probably studying. 

Nesta hurried on the stairs, hoping the security guard from the library would let her retrieve her textbook. Perhaps she should've brought him something sweet as a bribe.

The chilly night air kissed her bare skin when she exited the building. No sight of Tomas, thank God. The library less than a five minutes walk from the dorms, but if she picked up the pace, she'd be there in two. Enough so that she could avoid any unwanted attention.

"Nesta?"

Her feet froze on their own accord. 

"What a coincidence, I was just on my way to see you."

A shiver ran down her spine, cold and slimy and unwelcome, just as he was. Tomas appeared in front of her, hands stuffed in his pockets and a angry smile on his face. Her mind stopped working.

"Where are you going so late? Visiting that douchebag, Cassian?"

"Leave me alone, Tomas," she managed to get out and made to leave, but Tomas stepped in front of her. "What do you want from me?"

Tomas snorted. "Don't you know already? I want you."

Nesta gritted her teeth, either from anger or fear. Probably both. 

"I don't. So kindly fuck off and let me be. I'm tired of you stalking and harassing me every fucking day. I don't want you nor will I ever wish to be associated in any way with you."

The smile turned grotesque, matching the black of his eyes. They didn't seem wholly human.

Now she felt true fear. She took a step back, realising the situation she was in.

No one around. Probably no one would hear her screams. Nothing to use against him.

And judging by his clenched jaw, Tomas was aware of that, too. 

"You're going to regret that, Nesta."

The first blow sent her to the ground. 


	2. Chapter 2

Cassian had been waiting at their spot in the coffee shop for over an hour.

Nesta wasn't going to show up.

While he nervously tapped his foot against the wooden floor, numerous scenarios ran through Cassian's mind. Maybe she was sick, or just wasn't in the mood to come here at all. Perhaps she had classes or was tutoring someone. Or, quite possibly, got so caught up in painting or reading that she forgot altogether.

Or perhaps not.

He left the money for his coffee on the table and left at once. He needed to see her and make sure she was alright. Because after what happened yesterday...

A jolt of fury made him see red. That tedious bastard. If he did anything or even _tried_ to talk to her...

He didn't know where her dorm room was, but he wasn't above bullying the oldsecurity guard to find out. 

* * *

In less than ten minutes, Cassian had the address.

In less than two, he was standing in front of her door. 

"Just fucking do it," he told himself, finding the courage to lift his hand and knock twice on the door.

Silence.

A few seconds passed and Cassian knocked again.

More silence.

"Nesta? It's me, Cassian," he said softly. "Can you please open the door? I'm worried."

Of course, she could be anywhere on the campus, but the light steps against the floor said otherwise. Yet Nesta still didn't open the door.

"Please," he repeated. "I just want to know that you're alright. I'll leave after if you wish."

Then, tentatively, the wooden door creaked open. Hope bloomed in his chest, yet the moment Nesta came into full view, everything went quiet.

So, so quiet. 

The split lip and purple eye made him lose his balance a bit. Then there was another bruise on her right cheek, and the way she clutched the jumper to herself, as if in pain or to protect herself, suggested that the injuries didn't stop there. There was more and she covered the evidence.

Except her face.

He was going to be sick from the dread and blind fury he felt. Tomas did this to her. 

He fucking beat her. Assaulted her. And she had to suffer through it.

Still, Cassian took a deep breath, then another. He had to calm himself or else he'd go ballistic and do something reckless but worth it. 

Nesta didn't dare meet his eyes. 

"When?" he merely asked, trying hard not to clench his fists. 

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes and Cassian's heart cleaved in two. He never felt more helpless than now, in this moment, when he could do absolutely nothing to fix the damage that bastard did. There was no way to undo it.

"Last night," Nesta answered in a hoarse voice. Probably from crying. Or screaming.

Would he go to prison if he beat the crap out of him? 

He didn't give a fuck.

"Nesta, why didn't you call me? Did you go to the doctor? Police?" 

The desperation in his voice must've been obvious enough, because when Nesta looked up at him, her usual annoyance was nowhere to be seen. Only pain and despair.

His knees went weak. Was there any way to fix this? Could his soul hurt more than this? Why her? 

Why would anyone do something like this?

"I'm going to be okay, Cassian. I'll just..." her voice broke, aware of the fact that there was little she could do to fix this. "I'll be okay."

"Nesta, _he hurt you,"_ he repeated, inching closer. "You can't undo this. Please, let me take you to the--"

"No."

Cassian furrowed his brows, sensing her fear and reservation. Was there more? Did she not tell him everything?

"Nesta, is there anything you're not telling me?" he inquired.

She frantically shook her head. "No, no, I'm okay, I just want to sleep. I'll be okay. You can go now, I'll... I'll just be here."

It was obvious that Nesta wasn't well, not judging by the way she spoke, mumbling and repeating herself, completely avoidingeye contact. For a second she lost her balance and took a few uncertain steps back, squinting at her feet as if unsure how to make them stop.

His heart wouldn't stop thumping in his chest. A different sort of fear overwhelmed him.

"Nesta?"

"It's okay, it's okay," she repeated over and over again, taking further steps back. Her clenched hands were shaking like crazy. "I'm going to be okay."

Her voice broke into a whimper, completely shattering her crafted mask. She squeezed herself tighter and bowed her head, probably recalling those events again and again, making Cassian feel even more useless and scared. She was having a panic attack and Cassian was on the verge of having one, too.

"Nesta, look at me. Can you look at me?"

He cautiously entered her room and left the door ajar, as to not make her feel trapped. He couldn't possibly blame her if she didn't want to be alone with a guy after what just happened. 

But she needed help. There was no way in hell Cassian would leave her alone.

"You're scared and probably in a lot of pain right now. It's normal to feel afraid. Right now your survival instincts are stronger than any other and your body is fuelled by adrenaline. But the danger is over. No one is going to hurt you now, or ever. You're safe right now, okay? Do you hear me? He won't ever come close to you, I promise."

Cassian kept talking to her in a soothing voice, trying to coax her back to reality, to tether her to this world. Yet it proved to be far too difficult. 

Nesta squeezed her eyes shut and mumbled something to herself, too quietly for him to hear. Then, out of nowhere, she completely lost her balance and fell.

_Now_ they needed to see a doctor.

* * *

The dull sound of a beeping machine awoke Nesta from a deep yet restless slumber. The sun rays clouded her vision when she tried to open her eyes and figure out where she was, but the smell of antiseptic made it all too easy. 

The fucking hospital.

"You fucking idiot," were the first words that left her mouth, aware that she was not alone in the room.

The reply came quickly. "Nesta? Are you okay? How are you feeling? Are you in any pain? Do you want me to get a nurse or a doctor? You've been asleep for ten hours. Can you see me?"

How could she not, when he was standing right in her face, eyes wide and full of relief.

The events came back slowly, one after another -- Tomas, beating the hell out of her for rejecting him so many times. Barely making it back to her room, bloody and bruised. The unsurmountable pain, the nausea and terror. Not knowing what to do or if to ask for help. 

"Yes, I can see and hear you just fine," she answered, trying to sit back on the bed.

It proved to be far too difficult, since all her joints hurt and her IV stung like a bitch. Cassian hesitantly reached out, a question in his eyes.

She nodded and slowly, carefully, he helped her sit back. 

"How are you feeling?"

Nesta looked down at herself. She wore a typical hospital gown, and her arms -- Jesus Christ, her arms...

She silently studied them, the bruises that peppered her skin, splotches of dark blue and purple, some even swollen and far more painful than the others. She pulled the cover over her arms, trying to cover them.

"Just peachy," she replied. "What... What happened?"

Realising that she wasn't about to die right before his eyes, Cassian took a seat on the armchair next to the bed. He looked scruffier than usual, his hair a mess and eyes bloodshot. Did he stay here the whole time?

"You had a panic attack when I showed up and passed out cold. I called an ambulance and they checked you in."

"And what did they say?"

Cassian looked down at his hands, analysing his fingers. "What I already figured. Split lip, black eye, twisted wrist and two fractured ribs."

Well, that explained the pain and difficulty to move around.

"They... They also checked for further injuries. Marks on your body from any other sort of attack."

His voice was unusually grave, almost afraid to speak. He kept his gaze averted, too focused on his hands to look at her.

Of course, the insinuation wasn't lost on her.

"He didn't rape me, if that's what you meant."

_Although it came pretty close to that once or twice._

"He just beat the hell out of me."

"And I'm sorry."

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry it happened."

"Cassian, it's not your fault. What are you sorry for?"

"Because I should've known he wouldn't back off. You can never be too safe when it comes to bastards like him."

"But you did come and check up on me," she said instead. "Careful, or I might think that you care a bit too much, Cassian."

His entire body stiffened, as if her words were a trigger. Then, as if trying to shake off the effects of what she'd just said, Cassian relaxed and offered her the most genuine smile she'd ever seen. 

"That's not going to be a problem, since I'm in way over my head. Of course I care about you, Nesta Archeron. You're not hard to like at all."

Before she could at least attempt to come up with an answer, being taken aback by his confession, the door was thrown open and two familiar figures were staring at her in shock and fear.

"Nesta! God, I was so scared when they called to tell me that you're in the hospital, I nearly had a heart attack!" said her little sister, Elain, while she nearly jumped on her bed.

The littlest one, Feyre, despite having tears in her eyes, looked positively murderous. "I am going to kill that bastard for this."

"Get in line," muttered Cassian.

Without a warning, both of her sisters crushed her into a group hug, making her body hurt in places she didn't even know could hurt. Cassian watched everything with amusement, mostly because of Nesta's obvious discomfort. 

"Just to clarify, this is why I called you an idiot."

Her sisters were not going to leave her side anytime soon.

* * *

Two days later, Nesta was discharged from the hospital and sent home. Her sisters accompanied her and left after a week, making her life a living hell. 

Well, not entirely. They cooked and made her laugh, which was a good distraction from the fact that the police couldn't find Tomas. At both her sister's and Cassian's behest, she pressed charges for battery and threatening behaviour. Seeing the sorry state she was in, the police didn't need further proof. 

When Feyre and Elain finally left -- with the promise of returning in a couple of days and calling her twice a day -- Nesta was finally alone. It wasn't as comforting as she thought it'd be.

Given that it was already spring break and she had so much free time on her hands, Nesta started catching up to her TV series, yet her mind wasn't following the chain of events. It replayed the scene over and over, reliving the pain and kicks and screaming and threats--

She didn't think she'd make it out alive.

Though the pain was mostly gone now, except for the soreness in her limbs and a still sensitive wrist, Nesta recalled the events every time she looked in the mirror and beheld the masterpiece Tomas had created. It sickened her. His words sickened her, his hands on her body, the pure and undiluted hatred that came with each blow. It was a miracle she didn't pass out and managed to make it back to her room.

But would he come back again?

A knock pulled her out of her reverie.

"It's open," she said, sitting back on the couch.

Cassian's head popped in, a smile slowly blooming on his face.

Naturally, Nesta's heart skipped a beat.

"May I come in?"

"I'm feeling benevolent today, so yes, you may."

"How generous of you," he said as he came in and closed the door, then approached her. "What are you up to?"

"Binging TV shows."

"How are you feeling?"

"Never been better."

"Liar."

Nesta hit the pause button, turning her attention wholly to Cassian. 

"Excuse you?"

"You're quite a bad liar, you know that?"

He made himself at home on the other end of the couch, leaning his head on the pillows and watching her with those amused and captivating eyes. As always, it was difficult not to take in _everything_ about him, especially his physique. God, he really was good-looking. Too bad he had such a big, loud mouth.

Also, he was a pretty good distraction.

"Or I'm such a good liar that I managed to make you believe that I'm not," she retorted.

Cassian's brows furrowed and he spaced out for a bit, probably trying to understand what she meant. The confusion on his face made her laugh. 

"No, actually, you're not, because you have tells."

"Oh, I do? Like what?"

"You avoid eye contact. That's an obvious one. You also fidget with your clothes or any other object on hand."

"Why would I lie to you?"

"Honestly? I think you're actually lying to yourself, not me. Repeating those words out loud, especially to someone else, gives you the impression that they're true, but I don't think they are. And that's okay. You're not supposed to be fine all the time, especially not now."

Nesta's mood slowly deteriorated. Again. "Why? Because I'm in such a fragile state?"

Cassian leaned forward, their legs barely touching. His presence was a good distraction from her thoughts.

"Nesta, there's no need to beat around the bush. You were beaten to hell and back by a piece of shit. Of course that puts you in a vulnerable situation."

"I don't want to dwell on that. I don't want to give him that much power over me," she admitted, her throat tight. "He hurt me. I won't be able to forget that, not in this lifetime. But I'm not going to let it dictate my life from now on."

Nesta would be damned if she let him ruin the rest of her life. Even if everything hurt right now, she'd get over it.

There was admiration in Cassian's gaze. Admiration and regret, perhaps, that she had to go through something like this. 

It struck her stupid how different people could be. Cassian was nothing, absolutely nothing like Tomas, whose life had been similar to a holiday. Everything he ever wanted, served on a silver plate. Spoiled until he became rotten.

Which made her view Cassian in a different way from Tomas. A better one.

"I want to show you something," she said, and reached for the sketchpad on the floor. "Since you managed to get under my skin so easily, of course you managed to also get into my head."

With a shaky hand, Nesta pulled out a couple of sketches and held them out. Cassian reached for them with a puzzled look.

"They're messier than my usual ones, but that's... That's because they're all according to how my brain worked and thought in those moments. In an erratic, chaotic way. Less calculated than usual."

Cassian flipped through the few sketches she made of him, all capturing his different moods -- the smirking and cheeky ones were fun to draw. It was easy to draw that raw emotion she often saw in him. The ones when he was studying, all caught up in his work, a slight frown on hisface and tense body. Or, perhaps her favourite ones, when he was reading -- God knew that his choice in books wereweird and somewhat disturbing, but she liked to observe how at peace he was in those moments. His facial expressions varied on the scenes, sometimes laughing or gaping, and the relaxed, less aware posture. There was only him and the universe he had been caught into.

"These..." he began, then stopped, staring at them in awe. "Wow. I don't even know what to say. These are... so good."

Nesta bit back a chuckle, her nervousness fading away. "If I managed to render you speechless, then my job here is done."

"You actually did this? Out of your own will? Without being held at gunpoint and threatened?" he asked, surprise all over his face.

Laughing, she nudged him with her foot. "I was feeling inspired."

"So I'm your muse?"

"No, you're like a fly that won't leave you alone but does everything in its power to make its presence known."

Cassian stared at her, slowly shaking his hand. "Damn," he said, "your insults actually make me like you more than hate you. How's that even possible?"

"I always thought that men are dumber than women."

"You're doing a wonderful job, by the way."

"Of?"

He looked at her, his grin turning soft, almost endearing. Her heart would not stop thumping like crazy in her chest. 

"You know exactly what I mean, Nesta Archeron. Do I even need to say it?"

She blinked one, twice. Well, yes, he needed to, otherwise she'd be stuck with endless options and possibilities.

"Yes."

Yet he seemed doubtful, not knowing if he should share all of his thoughts.

"Of making me fall in love with you," he admitted quietly, voice barely more than a whisper. 

Nesta's throat bobbed, her eyes wide as saucers.

Did he...

Was she hearing things now? Was this her imagination? Could dementia kick in at such a young age?

"I... What?" was all she could say, blinking fast.

To her amazement, he seemed just as dumbfounded as she was. 

"I'm... I know this is the worst time possible, I just realised that because I stopped thinking the second you gave me these drawings, and I know you've never explicitly said anything about even standing me or wanting me around you and I completely understand if you don't want anything to do with me, especially right now, even though I have a feeling that you actually do enjoy my presence and like me more than you let on, however I am now going to shut up because if I keep talking I won't be able to stop."

Nesta bit her cheek to keep herself from laughing. "Cassian."

"But even despite the fact that the timing is terrible, I should let you know that my feelings are strong and my intentions are honourable," he continued, hand on his heart. "And I keep beating myself up for the fact that it took me this long to tell you, even though I was certain of it the second I walked in that coffee shop and you almost bit my head off. God, it was fantastic. But I don't want you to think that you have to say anything regarding this. You could just shut up and I wouldn't blame you. O-Or tell me to fuck off and I would. Or never talk to me again, however that would be an extreme--"

Faster than he could register, Nesta placed her hand on his shoulder and pulled him in for a kiss.

She heard his quick intake of breath, felt the stiffness of his muscles, and then his hand on her waist, pulling her closer.

Kissing him felt surreal.

His lips were soft and careful, almost too careful as they caressed hers, letting her set the pace. Nesta's hands roamed his strong chest, though it took everything in her power not to slid them under that damned sweater, not to push him back on that couch and straddle his hips, to actually feel some pleasure when doing this with someone. 

It felt so strange, so blissful. To have someone touch your skin with such care and wonder, to feel their fingers trace the contour of your face, comb through your hair, go down your back and gently grasp your hips. 

"Nesta," he whispered her name, then again. "Nesta, God, you have no idea how badly I wanted to kiss you."

Nesta pulled back to search his face. She dragged her finger on his cheek, marvelling at her lack of nervousness. Perhaps it all came down to the person you kissed.

"I still do," he continued, then pulled her in for another kiss. 

Her chest felt like it might be exploding any second now. It made her pull him closer, kiss him harder--

"Fuck," she swore, breaking the kiss.

"What? What's wrong? Did I do something?"

Her hand went up to her lip, which was bleeding again. Fucking hell. She thought it would've healed by now.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry," Cassian said, pulling back her hand to take a better look at her injured lip.

_Thanks again, Tomas._

"It's not your fault, Cass. _I_ kissed you."

A small smile played on his lips. Were it not for the pain, she would have kissed them again.

"I still feel the need to take some of the blame. Wait a second."

He stood up and went to the bathroom, where she heard him turning on the faucet. He was back in a couple of moments, a wet, small towel in his hand and one of her prescribed ointments for her split lip.

"It's not that bad."

"There's blood, so it's bad."

Nesta allowed Cassian to gently dab the wound with the wet towel, trying -- and failing -- to not stare at him. God, he was gorgeous. So much that the urge to sketch him again was too strong.

"I'm sorry if I was out of line earlier," he said sheepishly. "I didn't think it through."

"I'm glad you didn't."

Cassian's eyes met hers, wide and full of surprise.

"Why?"

"Because I like you too, Cassian. Bad timing and all."

She smiled, and he mirrored her smile, though his wasn't bloody. 

"I can't believe that you didn't punch me," he laughed, carefully applying some of the ointment on her lip, then cringing when she jolted back. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she said, then took the ointment from his hand. "enough of it, though. It tastes like plants."

Nesta placed the wet and now bloody towel on the coffee table along with the ointment, then turned her full attention towards Cassian, who kept watching her with a nervous expression. The impulse to kiss him was almost too strong, but she managed to resist it.

"I like you too," she repeated, now less confident. "God knows why. I just know that I feel the most comfortable around you and even though you never shut up, I do enjoy listening to you. And you're not too bad on the eyes, either." 

Cassian tipped back his head and laughed. "Oh, now you're sexualising me? I feel objectified."

"Don't act like my physical appearance didn't have an effect on you, Cassian," she nudged him with her foot again, but this time, he caught it, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"Oh, you have no idea the effect you have on me, sweetheart."

He gripped her foot and her core went molten. 

"You're making it really hard for me not to kiss you again."

"Don't worry, as soon as it's all healed up, I'll make up for it. Until then..."

Nesta yelped when Cassian pulled her over him, and before she could swear properly, his lips were on her neck.

Oh, she was ruined.

* * *

A loud noise awoke Nesta from her deep sleep.

She ignored it, hoping it would go away.

It didn't.

When she opened her eyes, she realised it was someone banging on her door. 

"It's me!"

"What the fuck? Cassian? When the hell did you leave?!"

She arose from the couch, where she fell asleep on Cassian a couple of hours ago. When she opened her eyes, her jaw almost hit the floor.

" _What did you do?"_

He was a mess.

Hair dishevelled, sweater bloody and knuckles bruised on both hands. He was breathing hard, as if he ran all the way here. Despite this, he had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

"Nothing bad, I promise."

"Look! There he is!"

They both looked down the corridor at the same time as four security officers ran towards them. While Nesta panicked instantly, Cassian seemed completely serene.

"Cassian, what the hell did you do?!" 

"What I should've done a couple of days ago, sweetheart. Can I ask you a favour?"

The officers were almost here. They were obviously after him.

"Here's my phone," he said, pushing a plastic object in her hand. "Call either Rhysand or Azriel and have them bail me out. Do not, under any circumstance, call or answer my mother. She'll have my head if she finds out what I did."

" _What_ did..."

She was cut short when two of the officers caught him, pulling his hands behind his back. He still had a devil-may-care smile, as if he was proud of what he did.

"I hope you're free tomorrow night. We should go out on a proper date," he winked.

"Take him away!" one of the officers barked.

They left in a haste, yet Nesta could still hear him bickering with the officers and asking stupid questions. One of them lingered behind, writing down something.

"Sir, what happened? What did he do?"

The middle-aged man took his eyes off the pad and eyed her, squinting his eyes at her bruises. 

"Beat the hell out of a kid. Didn't stand a change against him. It's a miracle we managed to stop him, but he took off and came here."

"Do you know the guy's name?"

The man shrugged. "Something like Ted or Timothy."

Oh, fucking hell.

Cassian beat up Tomas.

* * *

The next morning, Nesta was already at the police station, nervously tapping her foot against the floor and waiting impatiently for the guards to release Cassian.

She called Rhysand, who immediately knew who she was -- apparently he was friends with Feyre or something -- and wasn't too shocked when she told him that Cassian was in custody. He just picked her up from her dorm and drove straight to the police station.

Yet she had to remain in the waiting room while Rhysand went in to see his brother and bail him out, since they were relatives. The waiting part was killing her.

She managed to eavesdrop on the officers who were there last night to find out some updates. Apparently, Cassian did some damage to Tomas' face, breaking his nose, giving him a black eye and also breaking a couple of bones. He wouldn't walk properly for some time. Despite this, he refused to press charges, for whatever reason.

Nesta knew what the reason was. 

Moreover, he confessed to what he did to Nesta, which would earn him some time away.

An old lady eyed her pyjamas, but Nesta couldn't be bothered. She didn't have time to change.

"Open up!" one of the guards yelled and the doors buzzed open, revealing two laughing men.

Nesta was on her feet in an instant.

"You fucking idiot!" 

The laughter ceased. Even the guards turned their heads to watch the scene.

Both Cassian and Rhysand took a step back when they saw her approaching them with a furious look on her face. 

The guard that walked them out patted Cassian on the back. "You might've gotten away with beating that guy up, but no one can escape an angry woman, son."

Cassian had his hands raised before him. "Look, I'm sorry, but--"

He stopped when Nesta hugged him, more relieved than ever. 

"Could you be more stupid than this? Why did you do that?" she asked at the same time as his arms went around her, hugging her back.

"Because I wasn't about to let him get away with what he did. He deserved worse, actually."

Besides us, Rhysand coughed pointedly.

"Bailing you out is one thing. Breaking you out of prison is out of my league, I'm afraid. That's more of Azriel's specialty."

"Rhysand?" 

"Yes?"

"I appreciate you bailing me out, but do you mind getting lost for a bit?"

Rhysand sighed. "I'll be waiting in the car."

Cassian and Nesta went outside, both too quiet for her liking. 

"I'm sorry--"

"I'm not mad," they both started, but stopped.

"Sorry, go on," Cassian said.

"I'm not mad," she repeated, "but I was worried sick. I was afraid he'd press charges against you."

"Pff, he'd wish."

"Is that why you left last night?"

"I didn't want to wake you up."

"You could've told me."

"And would you have said yes?"

"Of course not."

"Then you should understand my reasoning."

Nesta gripped his shoulders and made him look down at her. It was difficult to appear intimidating when she was more than a head shorter than Cassian. Even so, he seemed unnerved.

"Don't do stupid shit like this without at least letting me know."

"Pinky promise," he replied.

"Also, thank you. For what you did. You shouldn't have, obviously, but thank you."

Cassian's smile returned as he leaned in and pressed a kiss on her forehead. She was glad he wasn't injured in any way.

"No need to thank me, sweetheart."

"Really? Because I had this really great idea for a date tonight..."

At that, Cassian's interest was piqued. 

"If I knew that I had to beat someone up to go on a date with you, I would've done it a long, long time ago."


End file.
